TLC
by BugzAroc
Summary: "Nah man, I rode with Morrison. Now go take care ya boy." Ron chuckled, gently pushed him back into the room, closing the door on John's infamous dimples...Slash


**Title: **TLC**  
**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **"Nah man, I rode with Morrison. Now go take care ya boy." Ron chuckled, gently pushed him back into the room, closing the door on John's infamous dimples.

**Warnings: **None**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is _**FICTION**_.

**Beta: **None, all mistakes are mine.

**A/N: Just a quick one following the events of last night. Oh yeah and though she thinks no one read her little rant, I totally stole Randy's thoughts from her post.  
**

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"God dammit, Ron! Quit dragging my fucking leg." Randy hissed as he once again felt his foot dragging on the hotel carpet. He knew he should be a little bit more grateful since the guy had been one of the few who offered to help him, but Randy was never one to be thankful without complaints and he wasn't about to start now.

"Oh Christ!"

Miz coming out at the end hadn't been planned or at least he hadn't been aware of it. Guess he should have figured something was cooking since the little bastard wimped out of his scheduled match against Ezekiel.

He knew he didn't have a fighting chance once 'awesome' starting playing, the pain from his knee was already casting stars before his eyes when he closed them plus the spells of dizziness but that didn't mean he was going to take it lying down.

Or that losing would be any less painful.

It was just like the little punk to prolong the match longer than necessary for a little self-satisfaction but you better believe Randy had a treat for the little bitch when he saw him again.

Biting back another curse as Ron had to stop in order to get a better grip on the younger man, Randy focused on his breathing. Slow, deep and even breaths in and out instead of the shooting pain coursing up his right leg. He wasn't quite sure whether passing out right now would turn out to be a curse or a blessing for him.

"Almost there, man. Just another door." Ron's voice brought him back to reality. Just a few more steps then he could pass out in his own room away from prying eyes. If his grey blue orbs looked a little glassy, Ron sure wasn't calling him on it and Randy would never admit it.

The older man propped him up against the wall as he dug out the key card Randy had given him back at the arena. Getting the green light he pushed opened the door, readying himself to take on most of the younger man's weight again when he felt a hand brush over his arm.

Looking back towards the door, he couldn't figure how he had missed the purple mass standing on the other side of it but gratefully handed off the semi-conscious man to his partner.

"Come on big guy," John whispered as he wrapped Randy's arm around his shoulder, able to carry all of his weight. "Lets get you taken care of." Before closing the door though, John glanced back up at Ron, offering a soft smile. "Thanks man, I know how pleasant he can be, pain or no pain."

"No problem" Ron grinned. "His bags are in the back seat of his rental, by the way."

Nodding John almost had the door closed before the thought donned on him. "Oh wait, truth, man. Do you need a ride back to the arena to pick up your car?"

"Nah man, I rode with Morrison. Now go take care ya boy." Ron chuckled, gently pushed him back into the room, closing the door on John's infamous dimples.

Randy registered the change in body type he was leaning against, registered a very familiar scent assaulting his nostrils but couldn't make his brain connect the dots much less ask why the hell that man was in his room.

He did however mutter a suffering groan as he was lowered to what he figured was the bed, his knee having bent just a little. As he went to lay back, he was stopped by a large hand on his back and a soothing voice dulling the pain down half a notch or two.

"Sorry buddy, but not till you get a few pills down ya."

Randy leaned against the large chest in front of him offering no help as he felt his shirt removed. Sighing heavily, he turned his head to face the man's neck and took a deep breath. That familiar scent putting him into somewhat of a calm state like always. At the insistent tug on his sweat pants he did manage to lift his hips just enough for the offending material to be removed leaving him in his boxers.

"Damn Randy"

Hot breath ghosted over his skin as the other man whispered. Gentle hands touched his leg, carefully lifting his knee.

The discoloration had already begun, the knee was a deeper purple than his shirt, marring the tan skin. John made a mental note to call Dr. Morgan and set up an appointment when they got back to Mass. since he knew Randy hadn't let the trainer's take a look at his knee before he left the arena.

Randy slowly scooted up the bed at the coaxing from the other man. "Shouldn't you be on your plane by now?" He slowly opened his eyes to see that dimpled grin he loved so much. He would have returned it with his own if it wasn't for sharp stab of pain shooting up his leg, turning his grin into a grimace.

"And leave you here to wallow in pain and self-pity?" John questioned, humor lacing his words as he moved towards his own bags to retrieve Randy's extra bottle of pain killers. "Not a chance."

By the time he made it back to the bed, the younger man's breathing had even out, his chest slowly rising and falling. Setting the bottle of water and two pills on the side table, John helped Randy to sit up so he could swallow the horse pills.

He let Randy settle back down on the bed as he stripped down to his own boxers and climbed in beside his lover, his larger body molding itself to Randy's left side, his right arm resting over the younger man's abs. Neither mentioned how Randy snuggled closer, nor the brief contact of lips to the long column of John's neck. The silent thank you for help earlier that night and now saying more than words could have.

After a few moments when John was sure Randy's exhaustion along with the pain killers had him dancing somewhere off in la la land, he dropped a chaste kiss to his brow.

"Besides, I'm not the only uncle little Shelby needs to meet."

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**A/N2: Okay, so I totally understand John wanting to go home, have a break and chill with his family for a little bit but I'm still highly pissed off. I'm a die hard Cena fan and will be always and this right here is some major shit-fuckery.**


End file.
